


Make A Wish

by fullmoon_nightowl



Series: masquerade [11]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha Jared Padalecki, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Jensen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmoon_nightowl/pseuds/fullmoon_nightowl
Summary: Jensen is a single omega and his biological clock ticking. He wants to have kids, but he’s never found the right alpha. He even considered buying one, but he doesn’t really like the system where people sell themselves into slavery to pay off debt. He’s been putting off the decision for years, so his family decides to make it for him. On his birthday, he’s gifted with alpha Jared.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Series: masquerade [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1250426
Comments: 17
Kudos: 68
Collections: SPN_Masquerade Spring 2020





	Make A Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the sixth round of the spn_masquerade for this prompt: Jensen, an unmated omega, feels his biological clock ticking away, quickly. He desperately wants to be bred and have a pup of his own. The only way he can have one is to find an alpha, but he’s never found the right one. He’s even considered buying one, but he’s not fond of slavery. Some alphas sell themselves into slavery to pay off their family’s debt. So, his family, and, or friends get together and purchase him one. On his birthday, or for Christmas, he’s gifted with Jared.
> 
> I ran out of time, and I don’t like posing things as WIPs, but I needed to claim this before the challenge closes and I have a rough outline, so I do hope to finish this. Fingers crossed the muse goes along.
> 
> Many, many thanks to ilikaicalie and masja_17 for betaing!

“So,” Jensen’s mother ended her birthday speech, “we all know that you’d make an amazing parent and you deserve that. So, we all chipped in this year to make your wish come true!”

Oh no.

In horror, Jensen stared as his cousin Susan came into his parents’ dining room, followed by a very tall, very attractive man on a leash.

Jensen’s mother went to stand next to him, hands raised in a telemarketer sales pose. “Ta-daa! Twenty-eight years, six foot four, two hundred pounds, very athletic and in perfect health! And it’s a one year contract, so there’s plenty of time!”

Cousin Susan nodded along. “And he is all alpha, everywhere, if you know what I mean.” She gave a salacious wink and Jensen’s mom looked like she just smelled a rotten egg.

Jensen stared at the alpha. His long brown hair was falling into his face and he was looking down so Jensen couldn’t see much past the slightly pointy nose and wide cheekbones. The guy had broad shoulders too, easily visible under the simple white v-neck that he was wearing with black khakis. Jensen was painfully grateful that his mother was too prudish to dress up a slave in a skimpy outfit, which Susan absolutely would have done if she’d been in charge.

A slave. Oh god. Jensen just got an alpha slave.

He put on a smile because he didn’t want to fight his mom in front of his family, but dear god he hadn’t thought they’d go through with it. Sure, Jensen had never said that he absolutely did not want an alpha slave whenever it came up–his family was fairly traditional and did not mind the concept of self-sold slavery at all–“it’s not like it’s involuntary, Jensen, they know what they’re doing”–but Jensen thought he’d made it clear that getting an alpha slave to knock him up was an absolutely last resort that at thirty-one he really didn’t want to think about yet. Truth to be told, he didn’t want to think about it at all, but his mother had been calling him an old spinster for years, reminding him of dwindling fertility when he’d admitted that his heats were starting to decrease in frequency. Jensen had passed the monthly rhythm for a while now and go his heats every two to three months which was much more convenient but also reminding him of his ticking biological clock.

Still. There were ways to jump-start a heat, and there was insemination, and besides, Jensen was still dating, he was chatting with two guys right now and—and his mother held out the leash to him and Jensen forced himself to smile and take it.

“Thank you guys, so much. This is such a thoughtful present.”

His mother beamed.

“Well,” Susan said, “don’t keep us in suspense. Did we manage to get your type? After all, that’s why you get a slave, so that it’s fun.” She leered at him.

Jensen looked at the alpha. The alpha raised his head, looked at Jensen with something like grim resignation.

Jensen tried to speak, cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”

Because that right there was one of the hottest alphas Jensen had ever seen.

Well fuck.

Somehow, Jensen managed to get through the rest of the party without staring at the alpha every second. He was parked in a corner where he sat quietly. They finished dinner and then people dispersed into the sitting and living room with drinks and cheese platters. It was a family-only event, but Jensen had enough cousins to fill the house. He made the rounds to thank everyone who chipped in. The alpha was attractive and seemed well-trained so he must come from a very expensive agency.

And it was a long contract too.

“I made it a year, in case, you know.” His mom nodded down at his belly. “If you get pregnant before that, you can, of course, sublease him if you don’t want him around.”

“Of course.” Jensen’s reply was automatic.

He looked back to the alpha who was still quietly sitting in the corner. He was leaning back against the wall, eyes closed. Jensen sighed and continued his thank-you round.

When the party started winding down, his mother gave him a big container with leftover cake and the alpha on a leash. The alpha’s eyes were downcast, hair falling into his face and his hands were clutching a duffel bag tightly.

“Have a good weekend, honey,” his mom said with a kiss to Jensen’s cheek. “Enjoy your gift.”

Jensen’s father was much more awkward about the affair, but after shooting the alpha a skeptical look, he patted Jensen on his shoulder. “Have a good evening, son.”

Jensen took the leftovers and the leash and left. He had never looked forward to a weekend less.

He could, of course, return the alpha. Sublease him. Something. He didn’t have to use him. Except… Jensen’s heats _had_ been decreasing in frequency. His parents would never let him hear the end of it. And the two alphas he was currently chatting with were either boring or already annoying.

Jensen let his head fall back against the car seat. “Fuck.”

“You okay?”

Jensen startled. Fuck. He was sitting in his car, the alpha slave next to him who was actually looking at him in slight concern while Jensen was having an inner meltdown.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, you’re an unexpected present.”

The alpha raised his eyebrows. “Your mother made it sound like you wanted this.”

Jensen snorted. “What I want are kids. I hadn’t decided on the method yet.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jensen sighed. “Let’s just go home and then, you know, figure this out.”

At home, Jensen realized that he was not at all equipped to have someone else live with him in his apartment. He was redoing his office, which meant that all of his office crap was stashed in the guest bedroom. Because he accidentally bought a bucket of orange and a bucket of light blue paint instead of two buckets of blue, the painting process had been stalled for a while.

He turned to the alpha to break the bad news when there was an audible grumble from the alpha’s stomach.

“Sorry.” The alpha flinched.

Horror dawned on Jensen. “Did someone give you something to eat at the party?”

The alpha shook his head.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“This morning.”

“Fuck.” Jensen dragged a hand through his hair. “Okay, I’m pretty sure I have leftover Chinese in the fridge and everything to make a sandwich. There’s obviously cake, too, but you probably want a real meal.”

“Whatever you have is good,” the alpha said.

“So, erm…” Jensen had another horrifying realization. He hadn’t even asked the alpha for his name. Jensen was so wrapped up in his own drama that he forgot to be a decent human being for the last few hours.

“Sorry, my mom didn’t say. What’s your name?”

“Oh.” The alpha looked startled. “Right. Sorry. This is the first time, I mean, I’ve never, you’re my first—master.” He grimaced as he said it, but tried to hide it by bending down to his duffel bag.

God, even his ass was great. This guy was just the whole package. And Jensen had never felt so bad about ogling someone.

The alpha reemerged with a folder. “This is my file. Everything’s in there. But you can obviously call me whatever you want and I will answer to that.”

“No, that’s—obviously I will use your name,” Jensen said. “If you want I mean.”

The alpha gave him the barest hint of a smile, half a dimple appearing in his left cheek. “It’s Jared.”

“Jared, okay.” Jensen let out a nervous breath. “How about you make yourself something to eat and I read your file. Cutlery is in the first drawer and plates are over there.”

“Thank you,” Jared said and then went to open the fridge.

Jensen opened the file.

Jared P., age 28, sold himself into slavery for a year for private financial debt. That could be anything from medical debt to a gambling problem. The information was semi-vague to protect the slave’s privacy. It was pseudo-apologist bullshit the government put in place to appease the slavery abolitionists. There was a block with Jared’s education; he went to a four-year college, and worked the last two years in a small business. Another block listed his skills: plays the guitar, athletic, can cook and bake. And then a block with limits. The usual non-violent offender restrictions applied, which meant that the slave was not to be harmed and only moderately punished ( _see the fine print on the back_ ), but the only other specifications were that Jared was allergic to shellfish and that he objected to nipple clamps, sensory play, and long-term leashing or caging.

Jensen swallowed. The more restrictions a person put on their slave contract, the less money they usually got from it. With this file, Jared must have cost a fortune. Plus, he was also very attractive. While other people would have bid on him for the freedom to do all kinds of kinky shit to his body, Jensen’s mother had probably picked him for his stature and his dimples. Jensen’s mother was a sucker for dimples.

The last block was for breeding status. _Yes,_ it said, followed by: _sperm quality: excellent, no family history of genetic disease_.

This meant that Jared gave consent to father a child, something that would drive up the price for his contract by another few thousand dollars. Jensen owed his family a ginormous thank you. Then again, he was an only child and his parents had been hounding him for grandchildren for a long time.

“We accept that you’re a modern omega who wants to have a career and children,” his father had said, “and we will support that.”

His mother had nodded. “We will babysit every day!”

His father had flinched a little at that but had agreed. And since Jensen hadn’t managed to find a boyfriend and was torn whether he wanted to date for a while longer or maybe just adopt—in vitro was mostly unsuccessful in omegas—his parents had apparently made an executive decision. And it wasn’t that Jensen still didn’t have a choice. He could just not use Jared.

But Jensen did want children, and he did want his own. And Jared had consented. It was an easy solution, just dropped into Jensen’s lap.

He rubbed his face. If they’d at least given him some warning before they just presented an alpha slave to him, that would have been great.

A clanging noise came from the kitchen followed by the unmistakable sound of glass breaking.

When Jensen went to check, he found Jared in the kitchen, cleaning up a wine glass that Jensen had left on the counter last night and hadn’t washed yet.

Jared’s head jerked up. “I’m so sorry about that.” His eyes were guarded and his shoulders hunched.

Of course. Moderate punishment didn’t mean no punishment. It was technically within Jensen's right to take a belt to Jared’s backside. The thought alone made Jensen feel ill.

“It's okay,” he tried to assuage Jared. “I shouldn’t leave my dishes lying around.”

Jared swept up the glass and threw the shards into the trash. “No, it was my fault. You, erm, I think you just have to put it into the account, online, you know, and they’ll take it out of the contract.”

Right. Jensen could charge Jared for destruction of property.

“It's fine,” Jensen said again. “As long as you don’t break the entire set, we’re good.”

Jared gave him a relieved smile. “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

For a moment, they stood awkwardly in the kitchen, then Jared’s stomach grumbled again.

“You should eat,” Jensen said. “I’m gonna go see if I can find you a place to sleep. My family didn’t really give me any warning and I started redoing my office last week, so the guest room is full of crap… Anyway, be right back.”

God, this was so much more awkward than Jensen had expected.

In the end, he gave Jared the couch. There was no way to get the bed in the guestroom free before his office was done. Jensen just had way too many files.

Jared had only brought a duffel bag with clothes and toiletries.

“Obviously, you get to chose,” Jared said when they were standing in the living room.

“To choose?” Jensen asked.

Jared gestured at the duffel. “What I wear and stuff. I just… they told me to bring stuff for the trip and in case my—my master didn’t care. So…”

“Oh yeah, I don’t,” Jensen said quickly. “I mean, you should wear what you want. I don’t—” Jensen helplessly waved his hands between them. “Fuck. Look, I wasn’t really prepared for this, I have no idea how to do this.”

Jared half-rolled his eyes before he froze. “Shit.”

Jensen got it. Jared was the slave and he was the one freaking out. It was ridiculous.

“Yeah, okay.” Jensen dragged a hand through his hair. He needed to toughen up and figurer this shit out. When he looked at the giant alpha in his living room who was now his slave for the next year, he thought that no one could fault him for pushing the decision back another day.

“I don’t care what you wear or what toothpaste you use,” Jensen said. “We’ll figure out the guest bedroom next week and the rest too.”

Jared gave a jerky nod. “Okay.”

Jensen nodded, then turned around and walked upstairs. He’d deal with the rest tomorrow.


End file.
